Billionaire’s Sins by L. Steele

5

Edward

I stride into the kitchen and the girls glance at each other. The silence stretches and Ava hops from foot to foot. Her face is fiery and she looks like she’s about to throw up.

I glance between them and Summer nods. "Uh, Isla and I need to see someone about something."

"What thing?" Isla frowns and Summer nudges her.

Isla blinks rapidly, then straightens, "Oh, yeah, that thing."

Summer begins to haul Isla out of there. Ava watches them leave with a stricken expression. "Uh, I guess I should go too." She turns to follow them.

"Stop, Eve." I hear the authority in my voice and frown. When had I decided it was appropriate to command her to do my bidding? More to the point, why does she respond to my order?

She pauses, but doesn’t turn around. Her shoulders are squared, her spine erect.

"Turn around." I force my voice to assume a more normal tone. This is just a discussion; that’s all it is. A conversation. Something I do every day with the people in my parish, so there is nothing different about this. Except there is. None of them resemble this beautiful, innocent creature who was sent my way to tempt me, to show me that I am fallible. To show me that the more I try to resist, the more I will fail. That all this time, while I’ve taken so much pride in being able to resist any enticement... Apparently, I still have a long way to go. Yeah, that’s all this is. A test. Of my morals. My principals. The way of life I have chosen for myself, and I intend to make sure that I pass this. With flying colors.

She slowly turns to face me and the breath rushes out of me.

Without the shield of the blanket that she’d clutched to herself, I see her in the morning light, her Titian hair flowing about her shoulders. Her pale skin gleams in the sunlight that pours over her and haloes her. Her green gaze widens as she takes me in. Color flushes her cheeks, her lips part, and I can’t look away. The pink of her lower lip, so soft, it would be so sweet. If I could only taste it once. My foot hits the ground and I realize I’ve taken a step toward her.

Her gaze widens, she bites down on her lower lip, and the blood rushes to my groin. This can’t be happening. And no, no way, am I going to use swear words to give vent to the frustration that wells in my chest. I thrust out my chest, widen my stance. "I heard you, earlier." I fix my gaze on her, and she blushes.

"How…how much of the conversation?" she mumbles.

I tilt my head and her blush deepens.

"Oh, hell." She squeezes her eyes shut. "This is soooo embarrassing." She hunches her shoulders. "I didn’t mean to talk about you. I mean, I did, but I was hoping for some clarity, you know? And I can only figure things out if I discuss them."

"You mean, when you are not talking to yourself?"

"Exactly." She snaps her eyes open. "But I swear, you have nothing to worry about."

"No?"

"No." She moves toward me. "Trust me, I have come to a decision."

"Oh?" I lower my chin, "And what would that be?"

She holds out her hand, "Friends."

"Friends?"

"Yeah, you know like the TV series?"

I stare at her and the line between her eyebrows deepens. "You do watch TV, right? I mean, surely, you do know Friends? You know, Rachel and Joey and—"

"I’m a priest, not an ascetic. I haven’t renounced the world." Not completely, that is.

Her breath hitches, "Sorry. I mean, of course, you know what Friends is. Silly me, why would I think you didn’t? Not that I watch it or anything. It’s a bit too classic for me. I mean, my older sister loved it and I loved watching it with her, but I tried watching it again recently and it seemed like it hadn’t aged well. Unlike you."

"Unlike me?"

She slaps a hand to her forehead, "Did I just say that out loud? How the hell did I let that slip?” She gasps. “Oh, no. I can’t believe I just said that.” She shakes her head, “Forget it." She swipes her hair over her shoulder. "Can you forget I said that?"

"Not a chance." I draw myself up to my full height. "I take it, you think of me as old?"

She winces. "Not old, but old-er."

"How old do you think I am, exactly?"

"Really, I didn’t mean anything by that statement."

"How old, Ava?" I infuse enough command in my voice for her to pale. "Tell me."

"Um…" She holds up four fingers, then signals three with her other hand.

"What the—" I explode, "You really think I’m—"

She folds one finger of the first hand, leaving three upright.

"Thirty-three?" I growl, "You think I’m thirty-three?"

"Are you?"

I shake my head, then reach over and fold two fingers of her second hand, leaving only her little finger upright.

Goosebumps pop on her skin, mirroring the ones on mine. I blow out a breath. Don’t swear, don’t swear. In fact, don’t stay here anymore. Don’t look at her. Don’t go closer to her again. Turn and leave, if you know what’s good for you. And for her. Think about her. Why are you leading her on, when you know there can be no future for either of you together?

"Thirty-one?" She swallows, "You're thirty-one?"

I nod.

"I’m nineteen." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

I blow out a breath. Of course, I’d sort of guessed that she was young, but I hadn’t…couldn’t let myself think about it. The proof’s right here in front of my eyes though. She’s nineteen. Only nineteen.

"I know you think that I’m too young, but you are wrong," she declares.

"I am?"

She nods. "I was born an old soul, and I promise you, I am tougher than I look. I’m more persistent than people give me credit for."

"Is that right?"

"Don’t you believe me?" She draws herself up to her full height, which still means she barely reaches my chest. So young, so delicate, so tiny. A gift from the heavens to coax me along the right path. Which is what? Return to my duties, stay true to my chosen route. Don’t let anything distract me from my obligations, my responsibilities to my flock. Yes, that’s why she’s come into my life. To show me how unsuited I am to a world where temptations lurk around every corner... I’d never be able to resist them. I’d lose myself in them again, I’d lose my clarity of thinking, my soul…and that, I cannot bear. Not again.

"It’s not you I doubt; it’s me."

She blinks.

"It’s not your words I’m unsure of; it’s my thoughts."

She swallows.

I take a step forward and the scent of jasmine clouds my senses. The band around my chest tightens. I raise my hand toward her and her breathing grows harsher.

"It’s not your persistence that I question; it’s my ability to stay true to myself that I have reservations about."

I make the sign of the cross, then walk past her. I head for the exit, when she calls out, "Edward."

The sound of my name from her lips sends my pulse racing. I fist my fingers at my sides, then pause.

Footsteps thud, she draws abreast, then plants herself in my path.

"You believe in a higher power, don’t you? So, do I. I believe there’s a reason we are drawn to each other. And while I can’t claim to understand why, I am willing to be patient to find out. Meanwhile, I really do want us to be friends." She holds out her hand, "Please, Edward."

I glance down at her hand, then at her face.

"We can never be friends."

Brushing past her, I walk out.